Accused
by Harmony283
Summary: I'm not stupid. I saw the blood--and it isn't yours. Tell me why it isn't yours" "But what about--" "Oh you don't have to worry about him." choked laughter filled the room "He's dead" -Kanda centric, AU, R&R please! -More info inside-


**Based off a Nightmare I had recently, and I **_**really, really **_**needed to get it off my chest (simply because I felt like I would keep on having it) **

**Summary: Christmas day was a day meant to be spent with family and friends. But what happens when, one goes missing—turns up dead, and you only have a picture sent out on the internet to prove anything? **

**WARNING: AU, Character Death/Blood/Disturbing Mental Images (possibly)/Unstable Minds…etc…**

**NOTE: Since this was based off a DREAM some things MAY NOT be correct. I'm trying to keep it as close to the dream as possible. **

**Oh yes, and Kanda plays the same person I was in the dream –just to clear that up- **

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**ACCUSED**

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-------(**Kanda's POV**)-------

'_Why did I ever leave in the first place?' _I wondered, letting out a soft hiss as my back hit the tiled wall of the shower. The very wet, still _steaming_ shower. I could feel water soak through my shirt.

But that didn't matter. No.

'_How the fuck did that happen?' _I winced as my legs gave out, making me crash against the bottom of the tub. Now water was soaking through my pants. But that didn't matter either. I could change, that was easy. It wouldn't change anything. It wouldn't change the fact that—I didn't know.

That was it. Just it.

_I didn't know._

How I ended up like this. In the shower—_away_ from _what just happened_ which I couldn't remember _for some reason_.

I inhaled, but it was hard to breathe—because of the steam, and the warmth. _'Don't panic.' _I wasn't going to, _'Just think.' _Which I wasn't good at. Not when it came to something _like this_, _'What happened?' _

Nothing came up. It was blank. Completely and utterly blank.

'_Dammit.' _I ignored the faucet poking me in the back, and bowed forward, gritting my teeth, _'I need to remember!' _before I could leave—I had to. Because it had to be important. It _had to be_.

But nothing.

I couldn't remember.

It was blank. White.

'_Why?' _I couldn't remember. I just couldn't.

-------(**Lavi's POV**)-------

"Yuu?" I called out, slamming the door shut behind me. It was too quiet—even for his place. And I was worried. He had left—so suddenly. Just. Like. That. And it worried me. It shouldn't. But it did.

"Yuu?" I called out again, kicking my shoes off and making my way through the house. It was like he wasn't home, when I saw his shoes there too—by the door, he _was_ home. But _where_?

He couldn't just ignore me again, right?

"Yuu?" I called for the third time, making my way into the hall. _Damn this House is big. _Because it was—bigger than I remembered it—_'For him to live here alone half the year.' _While Tiedoll was out painting or doing whatever, and Marie—well, he _should have_ been home, right?

'_Then where is he?' _Because he would have heard the door open, I was sure of it. _'Or maybe he's asleep.' _Because it was getting late, and he hadn't showed up for the party anyway—_'Didn't Yuu say he had to work?' _

Oh wait. He had, hadn't he?

'_But he said he'd drop by.' _So that must be—_'Yuu left to check on him.' _I felt my lips twitch, _'He can be nice sometimes, too.' _But I was still worried.

Because Kanda left too. After he got his present—a digital camera. From me, of course, but he didn't know that. It was cute. _'I wonder if he'll let us take a picture together.' _Because he _had_ been fiddling with it. _'Maybe I need to show him how to work it.' _

It'd be a shame if he broke it so soon, _'Then I'll tell him I'm the one who bought it for him. He'll be surprised.' _

He would be. _'If he doesn't just throw it out afterward.' _

…

He wouldn't. Right?

…

'_Nah, it was too expensive!' _Wouldn't put it past him though, when I wasn't looking. _'But he said he wanted one. So,' _I exhaled and continued walking, _'damn this hall is long.' _

Or more like _'Why'd you choose the last room?' _But then that was Kanda for ya. Not exactly the most sociable person. That was funny too, considering how many people _knew him_. But that was mostly Lenalee's fault.

'_Which reminds me I need ta call her later.' _Because she had been worried too, when she saw Yuu leave, _'If Komui will give her a free moment.' _

…

He wouldn't.

'_The overprotective bastard.' _I felt my lips twitch again, in a _real_ smile. But it almost immediately died. Almost immediately.

Because Kanda was anti-social. He hated company, he hated being _open_ for company, and he adored his privacy.

So why the heck was his _door_ open?

Better yet—_was that water running?_

He was taking a shower. With his door open.

'_He'll regret that.' _It would've been funny to peek in and scare the crap out of him—if now was time to be funny. I had unlocked his door once, just to see him showering—_'not that I'll admit that'_—Well I just _did_ but—

His door was open.

And _so was the bathroom door_. His own private bathroom. He _never_ left that door open. Whether because he was messy, or that he was a privacy whore—it could be both. Could be (if he kept enough clothes on hand to be _called_ messy) but I doubted it.

I shrugged my coat off and tossed it on his bed. The steam from the bathroom was literally seeping into every corner—every damn space it probably _could_.

And his clothes were lying in a heap on the floor by the shower door.

Bloodied and stained like he had just gotten into a fight with someone.

'_Is he hurt?' _No. That shouldn't even be a question.

I took one step into the bathroom, and banged lightly on the screen door. I didn't want to scare him—I didn't—_but_—

I did anyway.

He _glared_.

But I saw enough anyway—

'_Oh good,' _he wasn't hurt but—

"Get_ out_." I flinched at his voice, but didn't budge.

'_He isn't hurt.' _

But then—

'_where'd the blood come from?' _

He saw where I was looking. And—regardless of the water—of that much more steam—and the fact he was butt naked, not that I minded _that_—he stepped out.

"What do you _want_?" He hissed, but his voice sounded hoarse, like he had been screaming. His eyes wouldn't focus on me. They kept glancing down, at his clothes. Then at a towel, then at the mirror _behind_ me—he looked like he hated what he saw.

I couldn't blame him.

No bloodied wounds. No nothing. But his face was pinched in that way I hated—the way I only saw a _few_ times (and thankfully not more), and his eyes—

"I…was _worried_." I found my voice enough to speak those words. It must be the humid air, but they sounded weaker, more thrown together—_forced_—I didn't like it.

He didn't look like he believed me. He still wouldn't look at me. Instead he grabbed a towel (one for decency of course) and wrapped it around himself—

"You left." Two extra words tumbled out, "the party—I mean. Lenalee saw you leave when you—were out on the balcony. Sh-she got worried." He tensed at every word. But he still wouldn't look at me.

Instead he picked up his clothes and—_not_ in his closet. In the _shower_, under the steaming _water_—like he wanted to get the blood out.

"Yuu—" again, tensed shoulders, "What happened?" He shot me a glare that wasn't aimed at my face.

"Nothing happened." But I didn't believe him, _dammit_. I didn't. "You can _leave_."

"But Yuu—"

A glare, half a second, at my face. Then away—as he pushed past, towards his closet. To get new clothes, because of the bloodied ones in the shower.

"Like hell I'm going to leave if you can't even _look _at me." Those words tumbled out too as I watched him pick out clothing. The appropriate stuff. Then a shirt. And a pair of pants.

He didn't even care I was watching him. He didn't even care—even though he _knew_ I could see those scars (on the back of his legs. I never asked where they came from. I never wanted to know. Tiedoll and his big mouth. Cross too).

Or maybe he did, a little bit.

"Stop Staring."

"But Yuu,"

He didn't let me get too far, "Get _out_."

"No," he glanced at me over his shoulder, _again_ not meeting my eyes (err, eye), "I'll wait in your room."

"tch,"

"You aren't making me leave."

No comment.

I backed slowly out of the room and sat, slowly, on his bed (which was, thankfully, right by his door, so if he _did_ try to lock it, I'd get there in time) Not that I thought he'd do that. Because then something _would_ be wrong

(and I wouldn't mind breakin' down a damn door)

A few seconds later and Yuu came out, hair still wet, shirt never acquired, and he glared at me again.

'_Don't be fazed,' _and I wasn't, _'Say something.' _Before he hides back in the bathroom again, of course. I pushed myself up from the bed and stood, firmly, in front of the door, "Where'd you go?"

He tensed again, not looking me in the face—_again_—

"Well? You're gonna have to tell me at _some_ point."

"No I don't."

"Yeah you do." I leaned in—thankful for the painfully few inches I had on him—"So spill."

"I don't have to."

"For Lenalee's sake." I added on, "I'm not just gonna tell her you went for a _walk_. You _know_ she isn't going to believe me."

Of course he'd hesitate at that. I'd expect that much, "But I did."

"Go for a walk?" He nodded his head. "Where did you _go for this walk_?" He still wouldn't look at me. He was focusing on his grip on the hairbrush in his left hand—it was his favorite I knew, he always had it. Tiedoll had given it to him as a present, and at this point it was missing a few bristles—"You left before you could get all your presents, y'know. An' you left real' quick too."

"I walk fast." That was _lame_, "And—I don't need presents."

"But you took mine." _Now_ he looked at me—_now _he did—"The camera, it's from me." I elaborated, watching recognition flash in his dark eyes, "forgot the tag, but I thought it'd be funner that way." I expected him to get angry—to _'tch'_ at me—to—_anything_.

But he looked horrified.

"Oh c'mon, it can't be _that_ bad getting a present from me." But it wasn't a joking matter and I _knew_ it—_from his expression_, "Where'd ya put it anyway?" He _never_ looked horrified. And asking that _made it worse_.

…

And he didn't answer me.

"Yuu?"

he tried to _push past me._

"Yuu, woah, _hold up_," But I stopped him. With hand on his shoulder, pushing him back, turning him, until he was sitting on his bed—on my coat that I had _thrown there_—"What the _hell_?"

Because that wasn't—

"What happened? Did you break it?"

That stilled him enough, so I went with that, "What? It's—it's cool, if you broke it it's under warranty, y'know, we can get a new one." Because it was—paid an extra fifty bucks for it but _still_, "Wouldn't expect ya to break it so soon, but it's _fine." _

You'd expect Yuu to be the careful one, after all. But he still looked horrified. Not guilty—not that I'd ever expect him to _be_ guilty but—

But.

That wasn't it.

"It's not broken." His voice was so quiet then, I almost didn't hear him.

"It's not?" His shoulders slumped in my grip, "Then where is it?"

"I don't know." Blank. His voice was completely _blank_. He looked more composed now—if that were possible—but he still wasn't looking at me.

"You don't know?" I repeated, he shook his head, "Did you drop it somewhere? We can always retrace your steps." He tensed at that, a little bit, "I mean—there're like five different ways to walk to your place," because there _were_, I counted once, "which way did you go? It shouldn't be too hard to fine. The sun's still up."

Even more. Tensing. He shook his head—then—_again_—he tried to—get up, push me away—

"No."

"Eh?"

"We don't have to look for it." He stopped struggling for an instant as he said that—looking towards the window this time. Like he didn't want to _go outside_ or something.

"Why?" I shook my head, "if we don't' go out now we might not find it." And then the fifty dollars and the warranty would be basic crap. Unless I could pull out some stops but—I knew I was just running with that.

It was an excuse but apparently it was _true_ (that he lost it)

But.

"We don't have to." He stated again, still not looking at me.

"And again _why_? Is it really broken and you just don't want me to know?" he visibly flinched but quickly shook his head, "Then why can't we go look for it? I mean—" I thought back to the bloodied clothes and the still running shower, "did…wait." _Something clicked, _"something happened."

Triple flinch.

"No."

"It'd help if you'd actually look at me." I chided gently, "Or else I'll really think you're lying."

"I'm not lying."

"Of course."

He _did _try to look at me this time around. I had to give him points for that, "I'm not." He repeated, looking me in the eye. But still—_still_—he didn't look like he wanted to.

"Again, of course not." I repeated all the same, "You're just really crappy at telling the truth, then."

"I'm—"

"If you don't wanna look for it then tell me _why." _I cut him off, "especially if it's got something to do with the current state of your clothes."

He looked down at what he was wearing

"Not right _now_," I nearly rolled my eyes, "I'm not stupid. I saw the blood." Because I _did_, and he knew I did. "And it isn't yours."

-------(**Kanda's POV**)-------

He wouldn't stop staring at me like he _knew_ something. He wouldn't let me _move_ either. Why wouldn't he let me move? I _didn't know_ what happened—I didn't. Really.

"Tell me why it isn't yours."

Like he _wanted_ it to be mine? At least then it would make _sense_.

"I don't—" What was I going to say? Was I going to lie again?

"You don't know?" He didn't let me, "_Why_ don't you know it's not yours?" still staring at me. Even _with_ one eye it was still—

I couldn't look him in the eye.

Did I do something wrong? I couldn't remember that much. But Blood was never good, and if it was mine then—why wasn't I hurt? If it was someone else's then—where were _they_? What happened to _them_?

"I—can't remember." I still couldn't look him in the eye, but maybe it was enough. He wasn't stupid. He wouldn't jump to conclusions. For all the common sense he _lacked_—he wouldn't accuse…right?

"You can't?" I shook my head, "You mean you—well, I mean," I glanced at him and he just stared, hard, like he was trying to think it over and _what it meant_. Maybe he'd find something, because I _didn't know_.

Then he exhaled, "So you can't remember. How the blood got there?" I nodded my head, "And where the camera is?" Another nod. "Well," he paused, again, another sigh, "I—guess…I can at least tell Lenalee you're safe."

'_Because she'd be worried about me.' _She worries about everyone. Too much. I didn't nod my head, but he knew anyway.

"she might want to talk to you, though," he warned, fumbling around in his back pocket for his cell-phone, "just a warning. I mean, I can try to get her _not_ to but you did just kinda up and leave."

"That's—" _Because_—_because_—

"Hmm?" He finally got his cell phone out, and dialed her number, but he was still looking at me like he wanted me to answer.

But I didn't. Because—

'_Because I thought I saw Marie.' _I did. I was sure of it. The zoom option helped, but it _was_ him and I had gone to _greet_ him—but then—

"You okay—Lenalee!" His question got cut off halfway when she picked up the other end. He smiled for a moment, before laughing into the receiver, "Calm down—yeah I found him. He's at his house."

A short round of silence. He stared at me for a moment, "Nah, I don't think so. He's not—feeling well."

Another pause. His face fell slightly, "Neh, no. I mean, I don't see why not." He cast me an apologetic glance, mouthing the word 'See' before thrusting the phone out at me, "she wants to talk to you."

I had no choice. I _had_ to take the phone. It was there, and if I didn't then she would _come over here_ and---"What?"

_"That's no way to answer the phone." _She immediately scolded, but it was obvious she was relieved, _"How are you feeling? Lavi said you were sick." _

"Better."

_"Better as in? Do you have a fever? What about Marie? Is he there?" _My grip tightened on the phone—of _course_ she'd bring him up. Why wouldn't she? He didn't _show up_ at the party. He _couldn't_ because—

"_Tiedoll wants to know about him too, since he was supposed to get off work early today. He's kinda spazzing right now, if you know what I mean." _She laughed nervously into the receiver, but I almost didn't hear her. Almost. _"If he's there, how is he? I mean is he asleep? Or what?" _

Nervous. She was nervous. It was—

"He's not here." _Why_ did I say that?

"_Really?" _she sounded surprised. Now she'd get worried, _"He's working late? Today? But it's Christmas!" _

"I—"

She didn't let me get a word in, _"Tiedoll's going to have a fit when he finds out. Tell me he at least called?" _

"No."

I was forcing each word out—I—

"_What? Then—doesn't he usually?" _

"N—"

"_Should we drop by? I mean it's getting late, they're almost closing, right?" _What could I say? I never knew his working hours to _begin_ with, _"Yeah that's what we'll do. I guess we'll call you when we get there. Maybe we can pick you something up on the way back! Though if your stomach hurts or something, I don't know what would be good…" _

"It's—fine."

"_Your stomach?" _

"…yeah." What else could I say? _What else_?

"_Okay then, ah, we'll—call you if we see anything good or—yeah." _Suddenly a loud crashing sound could be heard somewhere behind her—even _Lavi_ heard it, and looked concerned—then, suddenly—

"_Wait Allen—I'm talking!" _

"_I don't care! This's important!" _

"_But—it's Kanda, you aren't just going to—"_

"_No. This is IMPORTANT! Give me the phone!" _

"_Why—"_

"_Please? No, seriously it's—don't pass off the phone." _He was aiming that at _me_. But I didn't—

"Why the _fuck_ would I want to talk to you."

"_Because," _he paused I could hear anger that I _didn't need_ to deal with—_"I just got an email." _

"_You were texting the whole time?!" _

"_Yeah but this is important." _He actually snapped at her—he—but—_"Are you near a computer?" _

I glanced over at my desk, Lavi did the same. "Yeah why?"

"_And Lavi's with you? Good. Just—get on. Get online!" _

"Why--?"

"_Just DO it." _

"_Allen—Kanda isn't feeling well—you shouldn't shout!" _ It sounded like she tried to grab the phone away from him, but failed. _"It's Christmas—Allen—can't you—"_

"_Yeah, yeah it's also the day after my birthday. I KNOW, Lenalee. But this is—I think I know why Kanda doesn't 'feel well'." _

The pit of my stomach dropped.

"What are you—" I started,

"_Talking about? You'll see when you get online. Are you online?" _I looked over at Lavi, who was sitting in the chair in front of the monitor—clicking on the familiar blue E.

"where the heck m'I going?" He asked, before beckoning me over to him, "And turn the phone on speaker—so he doesn't have to shout."

_But he isn't shouting._

I handed the phone off anyway, he clicked a button and suddenly the Moyashi's breathing got that much louder.

"You're on speaker now, where do ya want us to go?" Lavi wondered, turning back to the screen again, his expression—worried. Again.

"_Do you know deviantArt?" _

"Deviant _what_?"

"_It's an Art site. Just—go to it."_

"Okay, okay," his hands flew across the keyboard, and in an instant—a grey screen with pictures appeared, "I'm there. What now?"

_"Type D-Berry. In the search box." _

He did that.

_Why could I only watch his hands?_

"Done."

_"Read the Journal—or, no. Click on the link." _

"Which one—"

"_The only one THERE." _He sounded like he was about to panic.

"But it leads to a picture." Was his immediate response

"_No, duh, of course it does." _

"But it has a warning—"

"_You don't have to read it—just—click on the link! Do it!" _

"If you say so…" he trailed off, clicking on the link, quickly—before staring—back at—me.

And then the picture—and—

"_Is this the reason you're feeling sick, Kanda?" _It was the Moyashi's voice. Deadly. Concerned. Worried.

_Fuck._

"I—"

"_What is it?" _and Lenalee, sounding worried.

"I-I—"

"So that's where the blood's from." Lavi said—too loudly—too—

"_Blood?" _

It…_of course_ it wasn't my blood. I wasn't—_hurt_ but it—it was—_it was—_

"I can assume where my camera went now." Lavi muttered darkly, "Who the _fuck_ took this?" He didn't blame me—he didn't blame me—"And Yuu, sit the _fuck_ down before you collapse."

"_That's what I'd like to know." _Allen again, sounding—not—not _blaming_, _"We're coming over there now." _

"_But what about Marie?" _Lenalee now, worried, _"What's—"_

"_Oh you won't have to worry about Marie." _Allen let out a choked laugh—

"_Why--?" _

"_Because," _A pause, _"he's dead." _

-------(**Lavi's POV—An unidentifiable time later**)-------

"And the picture is?" I watched Yuu's left hand twitch under the table, as the picture switched into the curly haired man's hands. For a moment he inspected it—before his eyes widened in shock. He coughed lightly, and placed the picture face down, "I…see. That is substantial enough proof. Doesn't make things better that this was posted on—what was it again?"

"deviantArt." Tiedoll answered when Yuu remained silent, "it's an—art site, I think."

"Ah," he nodded his head, looking a bit disturbed, "I think I've heard of it before. It has a fairly good reputation other than what any site would have issues with." He glanced down at the photo again, shuddering slightly, "though you're saying you have no idea who the person is who uploaded this?"

At least he could shake his head.

"We've done as much background ch-check as we could," Tiedoll stuttered, "Even with Allen—he's a friend of…Kanda's—and the moderators of the site. They've cancelled their account, but the picture already got out."

Again the man nodded his head, "That's just how the internet works. But you caught it easily enough. We won't know much more until the official investigation is complete with." But something in the way he said that disturbed me, "Until then…you'll be placed under heavy surveillance."

'_Like that'll help any.' _

"Which of course, means, it would be best if you didn't leave your home." He added on with a sigh, "As unfair as it seems, it might also be for your safety."

'_Why? From the angry mob of people who won't fuckin' question it might be set up?' _Oh no, _of course not_.

His eyes found mind immediately, "And you're the one who bought the camera they used?" I nodded my head, "Your name is…Lavi?" Another nod, "I see. Well, they might trace the camera back to its original supplier so you might have to answer a few questions later on. But you won't be put under surveillance."

"I'd hope not." I would have laughed but now wasn't the time for laughing, "I can still visit Kanda, right?"

He nodded his head, "Of course you can." He glanced at Yuu, then back at me, "In fact that might do you well. After all…ah, this man _was _your…?" he trailed off, looking at Tiedoll now.

"Adopted son," he sniffled, "They're all my adoptive sons. Only Daisya—the one who found the photo—doesn't live at home. Though he's flying home for this, thankfully." He let out a shiver, and Yuu twitched, uncomfortably again.

"I see, well, I'll talk with him too once he arrives." For a moment the man fumbled around for something in one of his coat pockets, before pulling out a card, "This is my card." He stated, "It has my cell phone number, as well as my office number."

I managed to read the name on the card before Tiedoll took it. It read: _Tyki-Mikk _

'_That name sounds familiar.' _But I kept my mouth shut, _'No point in saying so now.' _Especially not when I wasn't entirely sure.

_Especially _not then.

"I'll make sure to call you if I figure anything else out." He smiled reassuringly before walking to the door, "there should be a car waiting for you out front to take you back."

_Just in case_.

But that was never said either.

"Thank you," Tiedoll attempted to return the smile with a watery one, pulling Yuu—who was too maliable for his own good—out of the chair. I was just about to follow them, however—

But then he—Tyki—Mr. Mikk—stopped me, "Oh yes, before you leave, I'd like to ask you something as well."

Tiedoll and Kanda paused, but he shooed them on, "Don't worry it will only take a second. You can wait out front." Yuu looked just about as lost as he had when they dragged him in here—and Tiedoll looked almost disturbed, but he dragged Yuu along with him anyway, towards the front.

Then the door eased itself closed. Tyki in front of it. And he asked, rather simply, "Can I trust you with something?"

-------(**Tyki's POV**)-------

Because I knew who he was. And I knew the two who were the _cause_ of this mess in the first place. I couldn't pretend I didn't recognize the lines. The lines caused by the thread that Jasdero always carried on him.

Those lines—even through the bloodied mess, and the fact that the boy—_Kanda_—had been holding so tightly onto the head.

It was just like them to decapitate someone. Yet to clearly leave their _mark_. The stigma. It was horribly obvious even _through_ the blood, and the darkened skin.

And the redhead in front of me seemed all but surprised. Or maybe not. I didn't know, his gaze kept shifting from my face, to my hand on the door preventing his escape.

But he answered me well enough, "Trust me with what?"

"I'm just asking if I can."

His one eye narrowed, for a split second, thinking. Then he sighed and shrugged, "I'm not stopping you. But I can't say I won't tell anyone, depending on what it is, and what your reasons are for telling _me_." _And keeping it secret._

Because if you had to trust someone with something—if you had to _ask_, then that meant you didn't want it told?

Of course it meant that.

And I didn't want those two to know I knew the murderers. If we found out via _proof_ and other things—it wouldn't be as bad. _But_.

I exhaled, "If I told you I might know—just from that picture—who the murderer is, would you believe me?"

He blinked and glanced back, at the desk and at the overturned picture. He looked back at me, and blinked again, "It depends on if you know them or not."

"Well I might."

"You _might_." He parroted back, eye narrowing again.

His gaze was much harsher than I would have thought. But I didn't look away, "Yes, I _might_. Of course it's pure conjecture at this point, I won't say I know officially."

"Of course not." He knew he had some effect on me, but his expression didn't change, "You're a lawyer aren't you?"

'_What does that have to do with anything?' _But I didn't say that out loud, instead, "Yes that I am."

"So it would be bad if you admitted to knowing who they were." He pointed out, "And you already know that."

"I do." I agreed, "Which is why I'm saying I'll give my guess away."

"To me?"

"To you."

"Why me?"

"Why not?" his eye narrowed again, "After all—your grandfather _is_—" then I paused. Judging from his facial expression—he could fill in the rest, "Do you understand?"

"Well enough." He was tense now, though, just a bit. "So are you going to tell me? They're waiting for me, y'know."

"I know," I consented, loosening my handle from the door, and instead, leaning against it, "I'll tell you now." I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. Collecting the scattered thoughts from that _image_ and—

"If I said I knew the murderers because they were of a relation to me—not a close one, but we share blood—and that I wouldn't find it all too surprising if they had propranolol(1) on them, or maybe even Rohypnol(2) (though I highly doubt the last one)—and that I'm so sure it's them I'd be surprised if it was anyone else—" I took a deep breath, opening my eyes to stare at him again, "would you believe me?"

For a moment he didn't say a word. Instead, he was thinking—a thinking mind was _always _a dangerous thing. I almost regretted telling him. That is, until—he _spoke_ and the first thing out of his mouth was—

"Murder_ers_? Plural? There're two?"

_'Ah, yes of course,' _I nodded my head.

He smiled, but it wasn't friendly, "Well. I might. Just because of that." Then he stepped towards me again, and grabbed the handle—I couldn't even move out of the way, "Now if you'll excuse me. I'll be going now."

And all I could do was watch him go. Watch him walk down the tiled hall to where his friend was waiting.

And I had to wonder—

'_Can I really win?' _

Well.

'_I'll try my best.' _

-------(**Lavi's POV –the Day of the Trial-**)-------

"Ignore it." I grabbed the paper from his hands almost immediately. He was reading it again, with that same, disgruntled expression on his face. Like he didn't care—when I _knew_ he did, "You shouldn't be reading that crap anyway."

He didn't answer me, of course, he just looked away. Almost like it pained him. But he wouldn't show it that openly. I knew he wouldn't.

"Yuu, look, don't worry about it too much." I tried, folding the paper up nicely before tossing it in the recycling bin, "No matter _what_ the paper says—bad, or good—it's not going to change anything."

For another moment, he was silent, but then he _answered_, "I know." He shifted in his seat before leaning back. Then he tugged at his bracelet. For trying to hide the fact this was bothering him—he wasn't doing a good job of it.

But then, of course he'd be the one to overreact when people were _for him_ and not against him.

Everyone was _for him_—all the papers _positive_ that he wouldn't _do _something like this. That the whole thing was _too suspicious_—every drop of it.

And yet it disturbed him more than if people wanted him dead.

But then—

_Marie's dead_. His _brother_—someone in his family—_was dead_.

And even if no one blamed him for it—he was still just that. _Accused_.

Sometimes that made all the difference.

* * *

**(1)& (2) Rohypnol and Propranolol **the first is a date rape drug, and the second is one that's supposed to help treat hypertension , but they're also recently doing studies for it as a treatment for Post Traumatic stress disorder(after you've taken it). Propranolol, especially when taken after something traumatic has happened, can make you forget about it. (And when taken 10 years afterward --it can make you forget the _pain_ but remember the _facts_--it's why it's used as treatment for PTSD) (info from various sites, mostly Wikipedia, I don't know if they're entirely correct. But since the drugs were mentioned...here's the info.)

**And it's done. Yes my dream left off with a cliffhanger, so I left this off with a cliffhanger. Again, I really needed to get this off my chest, so I'm glad I did. I'm probably not going to stare at this much longer afterward (it was hard enough writing about) so...so yeah.  
**

**Review if you want to –goes back to working on Pressure- **


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